


Dating Derek Hale: A Compilation of Observations by Stiles Stilinski

by reptilianraven



Series: A Guide To Idiocy [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, it's all just fluff. all of it.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1580810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reptilianraven/pseuds/reptilianraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This just in, Derek Hale is a saint, but also probably really dumb. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Or the one where Derek is sort of like a snail but a really happy snail and Stiles takes note of it. They date and it's a suspiciously healthy and happy relationship, all things considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dating Derek Hale: A Compilation of Observations by Stiles Stilinski

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes u just gotta write fluff u feel me
> 
> this can be read as a stand alone but this is the sorta sequel to [How To Get Your Idiot Friends Together: A Four Step Process by Scott McCall](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1451941)
> 
> this was also loosely based of off this [tumblr post](http://nikehime.tumblr.com/post/82957714262)  
> 

Stiles wakes up.

This shouldn’t be any cause for concern. This should actually be the total opposite. In Stiles’ book, waking up is now synonymous to Not Dead which is great. But the thing here is that his first immediate thought was that he had some reason to be dead. That means there’s danger afoot. Fantastic.

He blinks his eyes as they focus and _fuck_ , okay, his head is killing him. Let’s not move that because that’s apparently bad news. He sees white walls and breathes in stale air and his mind supplies _hospital_. 

“Hey,” Scott says from somewhere beside him. “Morning bro.”

Stiles makes the awful mistake of turning his head to see him. “Oh holy fuck.”

Scott is by his side in seconds, his hand gripping Stiles’ arm, and before Stiles can protest, black lines are running up Scott’s arm and the pain is sucked out of him.

“Christ on a stick, you did not have to do that.” Stiles gasps out. “Thank you though, you absolute angel.”

“No problem. Do you need anything?”

“No, not really. But uh, what happened?” Stiles asks because his mind is drawing a blank. He is not capable of thought right now. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got some head trauma but I can’t remember a thing. Is everybody okay?”

Scott raises an eyebrow. “Of course everybody is okay. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Dude, you tell me. I really have no idea how I got here.”

“We had brunch.” Scott tells him. “You, me, and—” 

“Elf king Finwë!” Stiles says as things come back to him. Finwë and his daughter moved into town and apparently it’s proper supernatural etiquette to greet the neighborhood alpha. Scott was obviously delighted because elves, and Stiles tagged along because _elves_. “Okay, I remember that. But it still doesn’t explain why I’m in the hospital.”

Scott grins. “Do you really want to know?”

“Oh my god. What did I do?” He groans as he braces himself for whatever might come next.

“His daughter snuck up on you to try and ask you out but she ended up spooking you. Then well, you slip then you fall and one thing leads to another and you bashed your head against the sidewalk.” Scott tries to disguise his laughter with ill timed coughs.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“Nope, sorry man.” Scott pats his shoulder. “Good news is you’ve only got a bit of a concussion. Your dad is on his way here to pick you up because you probably shouldn’t drive right now.”

“On a scale of one to terrible. How pissed is he that I ended up in the hospital?”

“Uh, zero. I don’t know, I couldn’t tell. He was sort of busy laughing through the entire conversation.”

Stiles covers his face with his hands.

“Anyways, I’m going to go since Derek is here.” Scott tells him.

“How long has he been here?”

“Like, eight seconds.” Scott scrunches his eyebrows. “And he seems a bit pissed.”

“How can you even know that?” 

“True alpha.” Scott stage whispers all the way out of the room right as Derek swaggers in. The swagger has lost most of its badass essence and has been replaced a whole lot of cute essence. It’s hard not to smile when Derek swaggers around in articles of clothing with the sleeves too long.

“I’d smack you in the head if you didn’t have a concussion.” He greets.

“Scott, come back.” Stiles yells. “I’m being harassed.”

“You survived being possessed by a dark trickster spirit and yet you’re defeated by gravity and a teenage girl.” Derek says, no, he _sermons_ holy shit, as he sits next to him.

“A teenage _elf_ girl. She came out of nowhere.” He defends.

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Stiles, this happened in broad daylight. I can only imagine what trouble you’d get into when the sun isn’t present.”

“Excuse you, I’m Batman. Me and the night are best friends.” He scoffs. “Without the dark, we'd never see the stars.” He waves his hands dramatically.

“Did you just quote Twilight at me?” Derek raises his other eyebrow incredulously.

Stiles stills because goddamnit, he’s got a bad habit of subtly quoting anything and everything in all possible scenarios and the _one_ time it gets acknowledged is when he quotes Twilight of all things. But that episode of embarrassment only lasts for about two seconds because his brain catches up with a realization.

“How did you know I was quoting Twilight?” Stiles smiles as Derek looks like his life is fucking flashing before his eyes and that seals the deal, if Derek was going to try and prevent the oncoming disaster then all hope is lost for him because his face says it all. 

“Stiles—”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s not—”

“Derek Hale, secret _Twihard_.”

“Cora forced me!” Derek breaks.

“This is beautiful.”

"Why," Derek digs his palms into his eyes. "Why do I do this? Why am I even dating you?"

"It's because you're crazy for my hot bod." Stiles grins.

"Never say 'hot bod' ever again. I might have to kill you."

"You could never kill me." Stiles snuggles into Derek's neck because, hey, that's a thing he can totally do now. "You'd miss my hot bod way too much."

“I’m done with you.” Derek untangles himself from Stiles’ clutches.

“No come back,” Stiles snickers. “Aren’t you going to say something about me being the lamb and you being the sick, masochistic lion?”

“We will never speak of this. Ever.” He says as Stiles grabs one of Derek’s adorable long jacket sleeves. Derek sighs but doesn’t make any move to leave.

“Sure, whatever you say. There are other things we could do though. Things that aren’t speaking.” Stiles says in a way the he hopes comes off as seductive and he looks at Derek in a way he hopes can be described as _bedroom eyes_. 

Derek narrows his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you okay?”

“I’m making bedroom eyes at you. I’ve been told that I make some pretty good unintentional bedroom eyes and now it’s intentional.”

“You look like you’re about to cry.” He says.

“But are you aroused?”

Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles pouts. “Stop it. You’re in the hospital and you have a concussion.”

“So if I were to walk out of the hospital?” Stiles tries just as his dad enters the room with his hand over his eyes.

“I’m giving you boys five seconds to get yourselves PG.” He says loudly.

“Dad, oh my god.” Stiles groans as Derek retreats away. Stiles was _this_ close to just singing _Baby Come Back_ right there.

“Son, you kept Derek a secret from me for two months so I’m milking this for every moment possible.” He pats Stiles’ back. “Come on, get up. Let’s go.”

Stiles sits up and he turns to where Derek was to reveal that he’s already gone. Derek has certainly grown out of his ‘disappearing into the shadows’ phase but it resurfaces when it comes to his dad because Derek is still intimidated by him. It’s pretty funny.

“Aw geez,” His dad says. “Stop with that dopey smile. I swear, you two are disgusting.”

\---

Scott and Derek call it pack affirmation. 

Stiles calls it weekly pack puppy piles.

It’s pretty awesome.

There’s this nice pillow nest fort thing attached to the front of Derek’s couch with everybody strewn around. Stiles is lying down on top of Derek who is lying down on the couch reading a book, as Stiles uses his chest as a table for his laptop.

“Enelya has a facebook now.” Allison says as she scrolls on her phone.

“Who?” Derek asks.

“Enelya. The elf girl who had the hots for Stiles.” Isaac says as Derek makes this weird sound. “Seriously, I don’t get it. Where’s the appeal?”

“The appeal is right here,” Stiles gestures to himself. “My hot bod.” Stiles can’t see Derek’s face but he’s one hundred percent sure he just rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Stiles. I see the appeal.” Malia tells him from under seven pillows. “You’re hot. Remember when we made out? Because that was great.”

Everybody in the room, except for Stiles, groans. 

“We’re aware.” Kira says. “It’s not like you let us forget it.” And she really doesn’t. Malia brings it up any time she can as if it’s her greatest achievement. Stiles is very flattered.

Stiles still can’t see Derek’s face but he’s pretty sure he’s pouting or something because he always makes this face when Malia mentions making out with him. “Aw, Derek. It’s okay, you know I’m all yours now.” Stiles says to Derek’s abs, as Stiles’ laptop dings with a notification.

“Oh, Enelya added me.” He says. “And now we’re chatting and—oh god—okay. Guys, emergency.”

“Life or death?” Lydia asks.

“Definitely.” He tells her with a sinking feeling. “Is anybody here willing to go out to dinner with Enelya? Hands up.” No hands go up, in fact, everybody seems to recede into further into the pillows. He gets it. She’s terrifying. “Come on, take one for the team guys!”

Lydia reaches under the pillows and raises Malia’s hand, which is now a paw, because Malia has shifted into her coyote form and is growling. 

“And we have a lucky winner.” Stiles says as he types a reply and probably an apology note for Malia. “Malia, always remember that when you’re a coyote, you can run faster than a terrifying elf girl. You’ll do great.”

Stiles gets another message. “Ooh. Derek, looky.” He says, wriggling off of Derek and into the small space beside him, moving his laptop so that it faces the both of them with a buffering youtube video on the screen.

“What’s this?” Derek squints at the screen like the old man he is.

“Shhhhhh, just wait.” Stiles says in glee.

Here’s the thing. Dating Derek Hale has been an enlightening experience and Stiles has learned so much. _So much_. Here are three important facts right off the top of his head.

  * Derek Hale has a literary boner for Haruki Murakami. What a nerd. 
  * Derek Hale secretly loves it when his shirts are slightly too big for him and the sleeves are long enough to cover his hands. It’s probably the cutest thing in the world.



And most important of all.

  * Derek Hale. Loves. Cute. Animal. Videos.



Okay, so maybe he’s never said it out loud but, god, he doesn’t have to. He gets this little twinkle in his eyes when Stiles shows him videos of hamsters or turtles trying to eat raspberries. He has a certain affinity for cat videos though, as in he legitimately cannot control his smile no matter what. Stiles thinks that maybe it’s because cats in real life never come closer than a meter to him. That doesn’t matter though, what matters is [the video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04_1N_55VFw) Enelya just sent him.

The video loads and a grey cat shows up on screen.

“Stiles, it isn’t doing anything.” Derek turns to him and absolutely _misses the cat doing the thing_.

“You just missed it oh my god,” Stiles pushes Derek’s face back to the screen. “Pay attention.”

A minute passes with the cat doing nothing other from an occasional meow and Derek is about to turn his head once again but Stiles holds his head in place, right as the cat stands up and _does the thing_.

“Holy shit.” Stiles squeals, not knowing which is cuter; the cat, or Derek’s face splitting into this small smile that he’s trying to hide from everybody in the room.

Scott sighs contentedly at the both of them as if _they_ were a cute cat video and Kira whispers, “Don’t encourage it. They’re getting gross.”

\---

“We are too nice.” Stiles says, waving his flashlight around to make a point.

“No we aren’t. You’re just insane.” Derek turns to him, eyes flashing in the dark.

“Insanely nice.” Stiles tells him as he hands the flashlight over Derek. “Hold this.” 

The night air is cold against his skin as he reaches into his pocket and fishes out a few folded crinkly brown pages he’d ripped out from this magic book Lydia gave him. Half the stuff in the book was complete bullshit but there were some true things. One of those true things happened to be the existence and location of a rare ‘sprouts once in a hundred years’ magic flower. Coincidentally, this rare magic flower can be found right here in the Beacon Hills Preserve. 

“Rare flower my fucking ass.” He mutters. “Light, please.”

Derek huffs and shines the light onto the pages. “Nobody is forcing you to go flower hunting, Stiles.”

“Dude, it’s not like I could have said no to Malia’s face. God, when she read this I thought she was going to have an aneurism. Apparently this flower is the best gift you could give to an elf you’re courting and Malia wants to woo the hell out of her elf girlfriend.” He says. “I’m bound by friend law to get it for her.”

“None of your friends go to this much effort for _you_.”

“Totally untrue. Remember the one time they baked us a cake? The chocolate one with the icing penises on it? The was so sweet.”

“It wasn’t even whole, there was already a slice taken.” Derek says. “Are you going to read the thing or not? I’m not a light post.”

“I would if you would stop moving the light.” Stiles hisses. “Just imagine this is a date. A really great date.”

“A night in the woods isn’t exactly an ideal date.”

“It’s kind of romantic. Moonlight, fresh air, the stars above—”

“A few minutes ago you walked straight into a tree.”

“Yeah I know right, I wish I had a werewolf boyfriend who could _see in the dark_ to have helped prevent that.” Stiles tells him and Derek huffs again. “Stop with the huffing and get with the smelling. The flower should be in this general area and it should smell like, uh, an early soothing memory.”

Derek takes a steady inhale and hands the flashlight back to Stiles. “I think I’ve got it.”

“What the hell does an early soothing memory even smell like?” Stiles pockets the pages as they start walking.

“Lemons and…newspaper.” Derek says really quietly.

“Oh, can I ask why?” Stiles tries.

Derek stays quiet for a while and Stiles understands that getting Derek to talk about things in the past was a long shot, but Derek surprises him by clearing his throat and actually answering.

“When I was younger, my mom would make lemon squares, and while waiting I would try to do the crosswords in the papers but I didn’t understand how it even worked at the time. Laura would always try to help me but she wasn’t much help either so we’d just end up coloring the whole crossword. My mom it was really sweet.” Derek says and in the dim light of the moon and Stiles’ flashlight, he can see Derek smile.

Meanwhile, Stiles’ heart just breaks into a million tiny pieces.

Derek looks at him, amused. “Are you alright?”

“Totally.” He says, trying to fight the urge to just hug Derek for half an hour.

“You smell like somebody just kicked a puppy. Or Scott.”

“Same thing to be honest.” Stiles sniffs. “I’m sorry. I kind of pressured you back there. Don’t feel obligated to tell me stuff you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” Derek says and Stiles is seriously wondering how he got this lucky.

“Stop. Stop being perfect. You’re making me feel bad for bringing you here.” He grumbles. “I should have just bought a bonsai and spray painted it silver or something.”

“Bonsais are expensive and require a lot of attention.” Derek recites like the Wikipedia page he is. 

“True, and I’m pretty broke as is. My dad says I should get a job in the summer now that nothing life threatening is in town.”

“Yeah, start doing _something_ productive.”

“Hey, tone down that sass, mister. You don’t have a job either.” Stiles says. “I’m not even sure if you’ve ever had a job. Ever.”

“I have a job, Stiles.” Derek says as if this is not the most controversial thing he’s ever said. “And I’ve _had_ jobs too. I worked in a lot in New York.”

“That is such a weird thought to have. What did you do? We’re you a stripper?”

“I was _nineteen_.”

“Not a stripper then. I bet it was terrible though, judging by your face.” Stiles says and Derek narrows his eyes. “Retail? Oh that would be hilarious like I can just imagine. ‘Sir, can you direct me to where I can find light bulbs?’ ‘Yeah, sure, let me point to where it is with my eyebrows.’”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What was it? Were you a bagboy? Shitty barista in a pretentious coffee shop? Victim to the worst Game Stop ever?” He jokes but then Derek’s eyebrow twitches and gives it all away. “ _No_.”

“Shut up.”

“No way.”

“Stiles—”

“I don’t know if I should laugh or offer condolences.”

“Stiles, the flower is right in front of you.” 

Stiles snaps out of his Derek Hale induced daze of thoughts and zeroes in on the admittedly beautiful glowing flower on the ground a few meters away. 

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really pretty.” Stiles says, tossing the flashlight to Derek as he slings his bag over his shoulder and retrieves a shovel and a plastic pot.

“Other from glowing and smelling weird, what does it even do?”

“It’s mainly used as an ingredient for weird elf spells and stuff.” Stiles carefully excavates the flower, roots and all, out of the ground, before placing it into the pot. “But it also ‘magnifies emotion in the supernatural’. Are any of your emotions feeling magnified, Derek?”

He stands and Derek is looking at him with this, and there’s no other word to describe it, _tender_ look on his face.

“Alright, there is definitely some magnifying going on.” Stiles tells him worriedly. “You doing okay?”

“I’m really just happy.” Derek says and he scowls as if his mouth just betrayed him.

“That’s a good thing. That’s a really good, great thing.” Stiles says because it totally is. “I told you this would be a great date.”

Derek rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, so yeah, it’s a great date.

\---

“Happy birthday,” Stiles sings loudly to himself and the loft. “To me.”

“It’s not your birthday yet. That’s tomorrow.” Derek tells him as he deposits Stiles at the kitchen counter, he leaves and returns with a glass of water. “Drink that. All of it.”

“Why?” Stiles looks at it in unreasonable dismay. “I don’t want to.”

“Because you’re drunk and I’m making sure that you stay hydrated so that you can wake up tomorrow and not feel like you’re dead inside.” 

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Only a little bit.” 

“Really, now?” Derek tells him in something Stiles would describe as his ‘mom voice’ and he breaks.

“You’re terrible. You’re such a responsible adult.” Stiles begrudgingly sips at his water. “This is the worst birthday ever. You’re trying to drown me and we were dead last place in bowling.”

That was mostly because Lydia and Malia teamed up at the beginning and became an unstoppable force. The only ones even capable of going against them were Scott and Kira, because for each turn Scott would miss _every pin_ , Kira would even it out by always getting a strike. Allison and Isaac were doomed the moment Isaac very quietly confessed that this was his first time bowling, right before dropping the bowling ball on his foot.

So yeah, bowling sucked because Stiles’ wide array of talents did not include bowling and Derek’s sub-par skills didn’t make up for it. But all was well when everybody who _could_ get drunk, _got drunk._

Stiles manages to drink half the glass before subtly placing it back on the counter. 

Derek eyes him. “Stiles. The whole thing.”

“I’m eighteen, I’m an adult.” He says. “I can decide whether or not I want to drink this whole glass of water.”

“You’re not yet eighteen. That’s tomorrow.”

“Which is in twenty minutes.” Stiles groans. “If we were twenty minutes closer to the International Dateline it would be tomorrow. Details. Small stuff. Doesn’t matter.”

“If you finish your water I’ll carry you to the bed.” Derek says and damn. That sounds really good.

“Will there be sexy things happening? In the bed?” Stiles tries to waggle his eyebrow but he thinks it probably looks more like his eye is twitching.

“Unless you happen to find sleep arousing? No.”

“Derek,” Stiles says as seriously has he can. “Three months.”

“Three months, what?”

“We’ve been dating for three months. I’d tell you the exact week and day but I’m pretty sure that that’s a weird thing to know.” He explains. “It has been three months and the farthest we’ve gone has been hand holding and really innocent spooning. Are you a snail? Because that is snail’s pace, Derek. _Snail’s pace_. “

“I don’t see the issue.”

“Oh my god. You are a snail.”

“I really don’t follow.” Derek looks at him like he’s waiting for an explanation.

“We haven’t kissed yet!” Stiles yells and Derek—

Derek shifts and actually looks _guilty_. 

Oh no. Stiles has done a bad thing. “Uh, I’m sorry?” Derek coughs.

“No! No, don’t be sorry! You did nothing wrong, you are so great.” Stiles says trying to salvage whatever damage he has done. This conversation could have gone a lot better if he were sober. “It’s just that it has been three months and we haven’t kissed and I was just thinking that if the only reason that you were holding back was because I was underage then bam. That’s gone. Because I’m eighteen.”

“You’re not yet eighteen.” Derek reminds him.

“Twenty minutes, Derek. Small stuff.” He says and his brain works towards a conclusion. “Unless you don’t want to kiss. Or do sexy things? At all? Are you axial?”

Derek’s eyebrows knit. “Axial?”

“Asexual. I meant asexual.” He corrects. “Oh my god, have I been a huge dick this whole time? I never even thought that you didn’t want sexy things I just figured you were a _noble man of honor_ or something—”

“I’m not.” Derek tells him. 

“A noble man of honor?”

“No, the other one. Asexual. I’m not asexual.”

“Maybe demisexual then? Because that’s a thing.”

“I don’t know,” He says. “Maybe. I just didn’t want to push or anything. I could wait you know?”

“Yeah I know _you_ can wait. But do you know that I can wait too?” Stiles asks. “You aren’t the only person in this relationship, dude. I’m in it as well. We’re both in it, and we are in it deep. I’ve got relationship duties as much as you have them.”

“I do. I know that. I just didn’t know when would be the right time.”

“All the time is the right time. Now is the right time. Kiss me now.”

“I’m not kissing you when you’re drunk.” There he is ladies and gentlemen. Derek Hale: The Responsible Adult. 

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow is in twenty minutes.” Derek tells him.

“Exactly.” Stiles smiles just as Derek walks around and hefts Stiles up in a fireman’s carry, dropping him back down on the couch. “Hey, this was not part of the deal. You said bed. I specifically remember you saying _bed_.”

“That was only if you finished the whole glass. Which you didn’t.” Derek smirks.

“You scheming bastard.” Stiles says as warning right before pulls Derek to the couch with him and shoves his hands up Derek’s shirt in retaliation because here’s an important thing, Derek Hale is super ticklish.

“Fuck,” Derek says in between gasps as Stiles fucking _wrecks_ him. But Derek has the supernatural advantage and overpowers him because here’s another important thing, Stiles is also super ticklish. And he’s just gotten himself into a ruthless ticklefight which Derek will undoubtedly win because Stiles _can’t breathe_.

“Okay, stop. I surrender. Have mercy.” He wheezes out as Derek stops, fingers stilling at Stiles’ ribs. Of course that’s when Allison waltzes into the loft.

“Hey,” She says. “Have you guys seen my phone because I think I left it he—”

Her eyes zero in on where he and Derek are on the couch, breathing heavily, shirts rucked up, Derek literally on top of Stiles. She blinks. Then smiles. Dear god.

“Never mind.” She says as she turns and struts out of the loft.

“Oh darn,” Stiles says when she pulls the door closed. “Now she thinks we did the do.”

“Did the do.” Derek repeats in disbelief. “Get up. You can walk to the bed.”

“Can’t. I’m dead inside.”

“You’re not going to sleep on the couch.”

“Well, I’m not going to sleep on the couch _alone_.” Stiles tells him, wrapping himself around Derek koala style. “I’m also pretty sure it’s my birthday now.”

Derek shifts around, trying to find a comfortable spot on the couch. “You’re still drunk. I’m not kissing you.”

“Killjoy.” Stiles murmurs as he starts to fall asleep, Derek a solid mass of warmth along his front. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Derek says. “And happy birthday.”

\---

“Old habits die hard I see,” Stiles says as Derek comes into the room through his window. He figures that maybe Derek just finds it involuntarily easier to backflip his way to his bedroom window than to knock and wait at the front door. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Bored.” Derek says as he walks over to where Stiles is seated in front of his desk.

“Oh good, because I’ve got something cool.” Stiles taps the book in front of him. “Enelya got me this cool book with a bunch of magic runes in it as rad birthday gift and Lydia just finished translating it.”

“That doesn’t really explain why you’re trying to draw…triangles?” Derek looks at the desk, there are papers everywhere, Stiles’ crude attempts at trying to draw the runes. He’s aware they’re not very good.

“The runes only work when you hand draw them while thinking about its use or something. Some of them need ingredients, some of them need a certain supernatural creature to draw them for it to work, and others are thankfully human friendly.” Stiles says. “I’m trying those ones out, hence the triangles.”

“You’re not very good at this.” Derek tells him and Stiles pouts. “Which one are you trying to draw?”

“This one,” He points to the picture in the book. “It’s legitimately an anti-mosquito rune. Mosquitoes die within six meters of the rune.”

“A non supernatural equivalent for that already exists. It’s called bug spray.”

“Yeah but this is _eternal_ bug spray.” He says. “Okay, you’re right. All the human friendly runes are pretty lame. Almost all of them are just anti ‘insert bug or small animal here.’” Stiles flips the book to another page and hands Derek a pencil. “Here are some that only werewolves can draw. Try it.”

Derek looks at the picture and starts drawing. The lines are wobbly and the whole thing looks a bit lopsided but it looks a lot better than any of Stiles’ triangles. The rune glows on the paper before completely disappearing.

“What does that one do?” Derek asks.

Stiles squints at the post it stuck to the book. “It’s an alarm system. If anything remotely threatening enters the household you get a vibe of some sort. That is so much cooler than the anti-mosquito one.”

“These are actually pretty useful.” Derek hums.

“Who knew being on good terms with an elf could harbor so many good things.” He grins, chewing on the tip of his pencil.

“Stop chewing on your pencils.” Derek tells him. “You’ll get germs.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a rune I can draw on the pencil to prevent that.” Stiles says right as Derek pulls the pencil right out of his mouth and _ow_. “Ow. I think you chipped one of my teeth.” 

Derek swivels Stiles’ chair around and he grabs his jaw, inspecting his teeth. “You’re fine.”

“And you’re not a dentist.” Stiles says but then Derek’s hold on his jaw loosens and turns into this caress over his cheek. And Derek is _looking_ at him.

“You’re looking at me.” Stiles informs him. “Sexily.”

“That’s because I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?” This just in, Derek Hale is a saint, but also probably really dumb.

“Of course it’s fucking okay—” Is all Stiles manages to get out because Derek’s lips are on his and wow.

Excluding the current moment, Stiles has only kissed a total of four people in his entire life. The first two came out of nowhere and were too confusing and abrupt to actually enjoy. The third one was probably only ten percent confusing and ninety percent _hell yeah_. That was when Stiles learned most of the tricks of the trade. He tips an imaginary hat to Caitlin. The fourth was him coming to terms with the fact that he could die pretty soon and well, Malia was there and willing.

But this.

_This_.

Derek pulls away and leaves Stiles to process the sheer bliss of the thing that just happened.

“Don’t chew on your pencils.” Derek says, tipping Stiles’ apparently agape mouth closed. “We can do that instead.”

\---

The kiss is not an isolated incident. It is a repeating incident. That occurs regularly. It has truly been an amazing experience. Stiles can now forgive all the times in the past where Scott was distracted out of his mind because he was probably thinking about making out with Allison (and now Kira) now that Stiles _understands_ how distracting the promise of a make out session actually is. 

Here’s a hint: it’s really distracting. Because Derek? Yeah. A+ kisser. 

_But that’s it._

Don’t get him wrong. Stiles loves kissing Derek. He loves it so much to the point that Stiles is worried he’ll break up with Derek and just start dating Derek’s mouth. But the millisecond kissing turns into something that has the potential to spiral into something more _heated_ , Derek would pull away and say something like “Do you want an omelet?” And Stiles can’t say no to that can he?

Five omelets. Derek has made Stiles a total of five omelets because things got too hot during five different occasions. Five is halfway to ten and Stiles isn’t sure he’s going to reach ten alive.

Thing is, they’ve talked about it. When Stiles said he was capable of waiting, he meant it. But this time it’s less of waiting and more of Derek’s weird honorable knight complex playing up again. Meaning that Derek is hesitant to deflower Stiles’ virtue or something.

Stiles was thinking of hosting an intervention. He’d have a speech written and he would force everybody else to come and ambush Derek at his loft. Maybe he would make a banner that would read “I Am Not A Blushing Pure Maiden.” Or maybe “The Sexual Frustration In Me Is So Palpable My Balls Might Fall Off.” 

Thankfully it hadn’t come that far because an impromptu movie date at Stiles’ house turned into an impromptu make out session at Stiles’ house. Stiles is straddling Derek’s hips and things are getting pretty heavy when Derek lays his hands on Stiles’ waist and he _doesn’t immediately deflect to making a delicious egg based snack_. 

Stiles would cry tears of relief but that would sort of ruin the moment so he settles for sighing in happiness when Derek’s mouth moves to his neck and brings him into a whole new world.

“You’re good at that.” Stiles says because what else is he supposed to fucking do when Derek is sucking at his neck like that. “Like really good.”

Derek just hums and moves Stiles down into the couch, Derek’s body hovering over him, before diving back in and kissing him, Stiles running his hands through Derek’s unbelievably soft chinchilla-like hair. Derek is wearing his ridiculous red thumbhole sweater and those partially sweater clad hands make their way under Stiles’ shirt, running up his sides, causing Stiles to gasp. 

Because those are Derek’s hands. On Stiles’ body. With _intimate_ intentions. Derek mouths at his jaw and sends all kinds of sparks through Stiles’ body to remind him that, duh, the whole point of this is one whole intimate intention.

And that’s a bit overwhelming.

This is the part where somebody loses an article of clothing right? Stiles has watched enough porn to know that. But maybe Stiles has brain damage somewhere because a big part of him doesn’t want to lose any article of clothing. He sort of just wants to stop and breathe for a few minutes. Maybe because he isn’t breathing at all right now.

“Stiles?” Derek looks up at him, face crinkled in worry. Probably because of the samba his heart might be pumping out. “What’s wrong?”

And because Stiles’ brain is gone to hell, the first thought he latches on to and blurts out is, “Did you know my grandparents gave us this couch?” Because at least that has nothing to do with what is currently happening.

Derek’s face doesn’t change into a complete _what the fuck_ face, bless him, in fact, he just tilts and looks even more concerned. “I didn’t know that.” He says very slowly. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. Yes! Yeah.” Stiles says and that’s when he wheezes in a couple gallons of air then wheezes them back out. Derek is off of him in seconds, pulling him into a sitting position. 

That same partially sweater clad hand that had intimate intentions just seconds ago is now comforting on Stiles’ back as Derek says, “Are you okay? Is this a panic attack?”

“No, it’s not. I’m okay. I just sort of forgot to breathe.” Stiles says right before everything comes right back crashing down on him. “I am so sorry.”

“Hey, just breathe. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Derek tells him.

“No, there is so much to be sorry for.” He covers his face in his hands. “Three months. Three months and we finally got here and I messed it up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up.” Derek reassures him and Stiles looks at him in the eye.

“Not even you can save this disaster I’ve created. We were there! We were right there and things were _happening_ and I’m _lame_ so I freaked.” He says. “Holy god I thought I was having sexual frustration issues but you are the real victim here. How have you not died of blue balls yet? What are you, a monk?. Fuck, what is my damage?”

“Hey,” Derek outright _growls_ , a respectable homage back to the days of angry faces and power stances at a reasonable distance. “There is nothing wrong with freaking out a bit. You wait for me and I’ll wait for you, remember? That was our deal.”

“But, sex.” Stiles says.

“I like you more than sex.” Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles is gone. He’s done for. Stiles is dating the single most ideal specimen of all mankind. 

“Has anybody ever told you about how great you are?”

“I can recall you mentioning it once or twice.”

“Because you should be told that every day. All the time.”

Derek smiles, “Do you want—”

“No, don’t say it.” Stiles stands. “I think it’s my turn to make the ‘we didn’t do the do’ omelet.”

So Stiles makes an omelet and it’s not as good as the ones Derek makes but Derek eats it all the same when they watch reruns of How I Met Your Mother on TV on the couch Stiles’ grandparents gave. They’ll end up falling asleep and his dad will find them and he’ll take a picture of them and post it on facebook. This somehow leads to Stiles cajoling Derek into making a facebook. A week after that they actually _will_ do the do and it’s going to be great and awkward and all the other things first time sex is and Stiles will have elbowed Derek in the ribs seven times. 

Things are pretty great, all things considered.

**Author's Note:**

> click the link to that cat video. really. you wont regret it.
> 
> come say hi on my [tumblr](http://actualbird.tumblr.com)


End file.
